Then, the ground rising steeply, the
mare's wild pace became modified, developed into a spasmodic canter,
became a difficult trot, finally slowed to a walk.
Fletcher pulled up altogether, and turned to the silent woman beside
him. "Mrs. Denvers, you are splendid!" he said simply.
She laughed rather tremulously. The tension over, she was feeling very
weak.
The _saice_ was already at the mare's head, and Fletcher let the reins
go. He dismounted without another word and went round to her side. Still
silent, he held up his hands to her and lifted her down as though she
had been a child. He was smiling a little, but he was still very pale.
As for Beryl, the moment her feet touched the ground she felt as if the
whole world had turned to liquid and were swimming around her in a
gigantic whirlpool of floating impressions.
"Ah, you are faint!" she heard him say.
And she made a desperate and quite futile effort to assure him that she
was nothing of the sort. But she knew that no more than a blur of sound
came from her lips, and even while she strove to make herself
intelligible the floating world became a dream, and darkness fell upon
her.
V
Gradually, very gradually, the mists cleared from Beryl's brain, and she
opened her eyes dreamily, and stared about her with a feeling that she
had been asleep for years. She was lying propped upon carriage-cushions
in the shade of an immense boulder, and as she discovered this fact,
memory flashed swiftly back upon her.
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